


Strawberry Milk

by Birdy5678



Category: Keep Your Hands Off Eizouken!
Genre: Awkward Conversations, F/F, Fluff, High School, Vibing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-03-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:16:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22292434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Birdy5678/pseuds/Birdy5678
Summary: Drabbles and short stories involving everyone's favorite four gaysSayaka has always been a little closed off, but for some inexplicable reason, Mizusaki seems to be able to push past that.
Relationships: Asakusa Midori/Doumeki, Asakusa Midori/Kanamori Sayaka, Kanamori Sayaka/Mizusaki Tsubame
Comments: 28
Kudos: 157





	1. Strawberry milk

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so currently I'm a normie so please forgive me if I completely butcher the Japanese culture- I will work on my ignorance. 
> 
> As for those wanting to know about that DDLC fic, its almost done- I just wanted to write this first.

Strawberry milk, that was Tsubame’s favorite flavor. 

But why? 

Don’t get Kanamori wrong, strawberry is a perfectly acceptable flavor, but by the bloody stock market, it’s way too sweet; like whatever robot mixing these flavors together keeps forgetting the perfect balance needed to create the perfect milk. Its so strange, hell, everything about the girl was strange to Kanamori: the gaze in her eyes essentially spelling out every thought in her head; the stance she took whenever she drew, focused, determined; every fiber of her personality clashed with one another in the world’s most confused warzone of a human being. 

And it fascinates Kanamori. 

But strawberry milk, why strawberry milk? 

That question mulls around in the back of her mind as she’s drinking the (obviously) superior regular milk. Regular milk, strong, dependable, the right mix of both sweet and tart- Kanamori grins to herself. 

Tsubame takes notice of it and makes a smile of her own. 

Ehhhhhhhhsljafl, Kanamori drinks her milk, tries not to look directly at it- she swears that her smile has the power to outshine the sun or something. 

Tsubame scoots closer, why is she scooting closer? She’s flaunting that strawberry milk, the bloody strawberry milk. You see, Kanamori tends to get fixated on things, random things, which is both a blessing and a curse. Helps with the schemes, doesn’t help that much when its stupid things. Like, get this, our schemer over here once got so fixated on the way Tsubame’s hair swayed left to right that she almost clawed her bloody eyes. 

Strawberry milk, man. 

Kanamori decides to steal a quick glance at the girl sitting next to her, Tsubame’s smile is met with the trademarked (of course it would be) lopsided grin of our female protagonist. 

It’s been many weeks since the faithful contract was signed between the trio, cementing them as partners in a club destined for greatness- and profit, hopefully profit; and in that time, the two have gotten rather close, a bond that you’d find in those comfortable with one another, comradery if you will. 

But, try as she might to maintain a level of professionalism, Tsubame’s been nothing but a distraction to her; every little mannerism she makes sends her into a spiral. Of course, Kanamori is a professional, the calm one of the group; and so quick, desperate peaks of her are disguised as stretching and chances to just talk to her are hidden beneath the flimsy veneer of work. 

“How did you do this?” She’d ask Tsubame, and her eyes would light up as she’d proceed to feed way too much information to her. Normally, she hated when a simple explanation is stretched beyond its breaking point, but hearing Tsubame’s voice, the gentle, sloppy, and excited cadence in that beautiful voice so few ever truly have, kept her interested- so very interested. The way her lips move- Kanamori vehemently shakes her head, which in turn causes the brown-haired girl sitting next to her to recoil. 

Sending the strawberry milk spilling all over the floor. 

“Oh- I, sorry,” Kanamori shot up, oh she really messed up this time, their business partnership may be teetering on total collapsing. That might be for the better, but money was at stake here! The milk was now a bright pink stain upon the grey concrete beneath them, a reminder of her mistake. 

Tsubame just laughs at her own stupid self and it melts Kanamori, “We’ve known each other for three weeks, come on, its fine.” But Kanamori’s not done yet, and so she responds with a light shake of her head, “A good businesswoman recognizes her faults, and so I’ll buy you another one.” Tsubame nods chuckling on like this is all a game to her, “You’re very good at this stuff, Kanamori.” 

“Call me Sayaka.” 

Sayaka barely registers what she just said until it’s too late, she wasn’t comfortable with giving out her first name at a drop of a hat, so… why did she just do that? A small blush crept along her face, but like I said, Sayaka’s a professional and soon its hidden beneath another lopsided grin. Tsubami grins like it’s the greatest thing she’s heard this year and nods, “Then call me Misuzaki.” 

‘That doesn’t mean much considering you’re a model and all that’ she thought to herself… so why did it feel so good? Sayaka finishes her milk, crushes it and tosses it into a trash can, “All right, Misuzaki, lets get going.” Misuzaki grabs her hand and together they set off, “Lets go, Sayaka.” 

Wait what. 

The businesswoman has to do a double take when their hands wrap around one another, syncing in a delicate balance where even a single move will cause discomfort for the other party. It sounds like a lot of trouble, but why is Sayaka blushing now? The simple answer would be that she just doesn’t like physical contact, which is valid because she genuinely doesn’t, but when Misuzaki and her soft hand wraps around her callused and beaten hand, it feels, wonderful? 

Yeah, wonderful, that’s the word for it. Doesn’t make sense, but the girl who would’ve hit you for something as small as a pat on the back is grinning at this simple gesture. 

Along the way they talk to one another, Misuzaki mostly goes on about anime and other stuff Sayaka can’t completely wrap her head around (though, she does pretend to know.) but other times the conversation teeters to something more, beyond their work, a real attempt to get to know one another. 

“Do you have any pets, Sayaka?” 

“Yeah, she’s a big tabby cat, some people even say she looks like me.” 

Sayaka laughs, “Then she must be adorable.” 

Sayaka’s face caves into itself, but she’s a professional, and so an awkward laugh manages to just salvage this conversation, 

“I’d imagine a rich girl like you’ s got three thousand Shibas.” 

“I have a goldfish, but that’s about it.” Huh, that one was surprising, “Really?”, “Yeah, really, her name is Kimi.” “Isn’t that a dog’s name?” “She’s got the strength of four dogs together.” 

Sayaka laughs at that, and she could’ve sworn that Misuzaki stops to stare at it for a couple seconds before hastily looking away. Strange. 

The tall gorl thinks for a moment “Hmm, my turn, what is your favorite sweet- besides strawberry milk, that is.” It isn’t surprising to Sayaka when Misuzaki lists some obscure, highly expensive, hand-made sweet using a jam which can only ever be made once a decade. 

“What about you?”

“Er… the sweets in the convenience store.” While it doesn’t get to her as much as it used to, Sayaka’s grown increasingly aware of the economic gap between the two; she is an enigma to her, after all. 

“Could we go one day?” Misuzaki’s voice goes low, barely above a whisper, her entire being is a warzone of conflicting emotions- insecurity places itself in the forefront, Sayaka can see it in her eyes. 

So, Sayaka grins, not a lopsided one, no disguise, but a real and genuine one, “Of course.” 

Misuzaki blushes, and Sayaka notices it this time. 

The rest of the walk to the vending machine is spent in comfortable silence, lost in one another’s company. 

As they finally reach the good old vending machine, Misuzaki tries to pull out a credit card which causes Sayaka to chuckle, “Hey, I said I’d pay for your milk.” 

The shorter girl blushes and nods, “Th-thank you, really.” Sayaka doesn’t say anything, she just blushes. “Anytime.” 

The two sits there in comfortable silence, under the gaze of a setting sun, bathing the world in warm oranges and reds, deepening their shadows. 

Its truly a beautiful sight,

But Sayaka can’t help but stare at Misuzaki.  
\--------------- ------------------- ---------------------- --------------------- --------------- -----------------

The sun’s set by the time they reach the train station, the night is cool, so very cool, and soon Sayaka takes notice of the shivering girl beneath her. 

“Hey, you all right?” She asks, Misuzaki looks up rather suddenly and cocks her head, “Y-yeah I’m j-just a bit cold.” Ah. Maybe giving her that milk while the sun set wasn’t the best of ideas. The businesswoman nods and takes off her jacket, ah, she wasn’t that cold anyways. 

Misuzaki’s about to protest when the thing wraps around her being, causing a soft sigh of relief to emit- Sayaka’s not weird for wanting to hear that sigh again, right? “Better?” The grinning girl asks, “Better.” The layered girl replies. 

The train reaches closer and closer with each oncoming second, and soon the roar nearly deafens them. 

“Well, I best be going now, are you sure you can’t come?” Misuzaki asks, Sayaka shakes her head, “Sorry, not today, I’ll go with you tomorrow.” Then Misuzaki says something that completely surprises her, which isn’t inherently surprising, “Promise?” 

Sayaka blushes and without thinking, says, “Promise.” 

And as the doors of the train open, beckoning for the bubbly girl, Misuzaki takes a step too close, stands on her tippy toes, and kisses her on the cheek. 

Its nothing too special, just a light peck, but it’s enough to send Sayaka reeling. 

Misuzaki covers her face and dashes into the train before Sayaka can even open her mouth.

“Huh.” Is all she can muster, the disguise long gone- a bright blush painted across her face. 

Well, at the very least, strawberry milk is the last thing on her mind right now.


	2. Wet Dogs, Rising Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this episode, Sayaka and Midori go hunting for a dog's owner but end up finding each other in the process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one is a bit rough, but I hope you all enjoy this one.

The sun’s barely risen and Midori and Sayaka are dashing out of an alleyway; the barking is growing louder with each oncoming second. Midori’s tiny legs aren’t helping them right now, and so in a stroke of genius, Sayaka lifts Midori and throws her onto her shoulder, “The fee’s upped to six bottles.” 

Midori swears that she can feel the dog’s breath on her neck- this hulking amalgamation of muscle and flesh with glowing red eyes, steam emitting from rows of razor-sharp teeth. 

And Midori grins, a crazed look plastered upon her face, “ADVENTURE!” Sayaka rolls her eyes, “Deattttthhh.” 

After taking a sharp turn, the two find themselves staring down another alleyway- dead end. “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding.” “This is our final stance; the foul beast grows close!” “Don’t you mean stand?” Midori hops off Sayaka’s shoulders and grabs a trashcan (much to the taller girl’s displeasure, I mean come on, do you know how nasty those things are?) “We must prepare for the attack!”

They are teamsters now, Midori’s light shield- originally made for defense against falling debris during mining jobs- are the two cosmonauts’ only hope now as the alien being from another world scratches at their door. 

They sit there, (Well, Sayaka sits, Midori stands, yes, they’re about the same size now.) in tense silence as the pattering of tiny feet advance furiously. The beast shows itself! The beast is the world’s tinniest Chihuahua. Kanamori just sighs and chuckles to herself, Midori’s got disappointment spelt on her forehead. 

The chihuahua dances on its itty-bitty feet, tongue rolled out as its bulging eyes look up at them with curiosity. She probably thought they were playing a game or something.

“Must be some foreigner’s dog,” Sayaka says as she leans down to pick her up, “We best give it back to them.” 

“Wow, that’s awfully noble of you, Sayaka,” 

“They’re bound to pay us a good price.” 

“There it is.” 

Surprisingly, the dog’s taken a liking to the tall gorl, and so she happily snuggles into her chest. Along the way back, Midori’s prancing around drawing trash cans, cars, wires, and a myriad of other things. 

Sayaka grins to herself, watching the little gremlin go, ‘She always gets fired up like this.’ 

Midori’s round face is buried in a sketchbook, her hand moving furiously, a blur of spewing creativity. 

Sayaka’s mind begins to wander. 

Its been a couple years since the two met together that fateful day at the playground, heh, she still remembers making Midori take her first commissions, “50-50 split, its an even trade.” She had once told her tiny counterpart, Midori had sparkles in her eyes at the shot of adventure. They only made a thousand yen, which is a lot for a couple ten-year-olds. 

Well, that’s all in the past, now they’ve got an anime in the works. She smiles at their progress. 

“Sayaka!” Midori waves her hand in front of Kanamori’s face, “Huh- what?” She looks down, “We’re at a vending machine, wanna get your milk?” Sayaka thinks for a bit, “Get me one.” 

“Huh, just one? I remember seeing you down- like- 7 bottles one time,” 

“That was a rumor and you know it.” 

Midori laughs, it’s a breathy laugh with a snort Sayaka’s heard for many years now, and it’s a laugh that’s always made her feel… safe? 

A bottle of milk comes out and now it’s in Sayaka’s hands, “Hey, can dogs drink milk?” the gremlin scratches her chin before returning to her drawing, but she responds “We used to have a couple dogs before we gave them to my aunt, I think chocolate’s the only thing they can’t have.” 

Now, she’d love to drink this milk, its right there- right there! Looking at her like the world’s most appetizing drink- because it is- but ah, sometimes an investment’s better than short term profit. Sayaka gently lets the dog down, opening the lid and angling it for her to drink. 

The sun rises, glinting off prescription glasses and trash cans, lighting the sky on fire and hidden beneath clustered and towering buildings.

The milk’s all empty, and so the two continue their journey to find this dog’s owner, the dog is just vibing doe. 

Sayaka goes back to thinking… 

It had been the worst day in her life, a scheme gone wrong! A slight miscalculation caused by laziness had resulted in Sayaka being sent into the principle’s office. Don’t get the girl wrong, she was no newcomer to the office, hell, the place has become something of a second home to her.

But there was no way she’d be getting out of this one, Sayaka knew this as she bore holes into her bruised and callused hands.

The client had gotten angry, charged at one of her assistants, sent the whole operation she had spent the past fifth period setting up- of course she’d defended her assistant. Well anyways, she’d thrown the first punch, so of course she’d be in the wrong; the client got cold feet and ran off before the teachers found her, and well, now she was there. 

Sayaka was about to spend what little time she had before being called to the office scheming the perfect response to her accusations when Midori waltzed in and plopped herself onto the chair next to her. 

“What’d you get in here for?” 

“Uh, I spray painted school property.”

“Figures, you do know how foolish that was, right?”

“How’d you get in?” 

“… Fighting.” 

“You’ve got no right to judge me!” 

Sayaka remembers the hefty lecture they got and shudders at the memory, its one best kept stored in the inner recesses of her mind. All this thinking’s got her realizing something- most of her important memories are those spent with Midori; there’s not a single big memory she can point out that hasn’t included Midori at some point or another. 

That kinda makes her smile. 

“Sayaka!” Midori shouts again, dragging the girl out of her thoughts, “I have a problem with the kinds of people who interrupt another guy’s thinking, what?”   
Midori blushes and quickly apologizes, okay, maybe that was a bit mean- Sayaka loosens up a bit, “Sorry, what’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you that I think the dog’s trying to tell us something.” 

“What.”

“I’m serious, she’s wiggling around! Let her down for a bit.” 

“Dogs just do that!”

“Just, trust me on this.” 

There she goes again, giving Sayaka those eyes- those bloody, naive eyes which she can never say no to. Well, she can say no to, but it takes a lot of work. Work sounds like a bother to her right now, and so with a big mighty sigh, she lets the thing down. 

Midori smiles and it just melts Sayaka’s heart, but as said in the previous chapter, she’s a professional so she doesn’t it let it get to her, “Now, beast, lead us to ADVENTURE!!” Midori shouts before tugging on Sayaka’s shirt. 

“Huh?” 

“Let me up, a good adventurer always needs to see things from a bird’s eye view!” 

“No.” 

“Please??”

“No.”

“Pleaseeee?”

“No.”

“PLEEEEEEEEEASS-“

“FINE!” 

The frog is on her shoulders again, and of course she’s babbling like a little kid, Sayaka just sighs and holds onto her tiny legs. 

The chihuahua runs in a straight line for almost thirty minutes before Sayaka grows tired of it, “Think we should just abandon it?” 

“No, that’s cruel.” 

“I suppose you’re right.” 

“How’s the view up there?” 

Midori grins.   
\----------------------------- --------------------- --------------------- -------------------------------------

Its two thirty in the afternoon and the dog still hasn’t found its owner yet, which is fair considering Chihuahuas aren’t known for their tracking capabilities. Anyways, the trio, (Tsubame was invited) are sitting on the roof of Midori’s apartment complex hovering over the tiny thing’s sleeping form. 

“Its so peaceful.” Tsubame is the first to speak after a good five minutes of continuous silence. 

“Well, you wouldn’t happen to know a foreigner with a chihuahua?” 

“I think father might… I dunno, I couldn’t understand what any foreigner who came to our house was saying so I sorta spaced out.” 

“That’s fine then.” 

Midori takes a whiff of its scent, “Yeesh, this thing stinks.” Sayaka nods, “It seems like we might have to give it a bath.” Mitsuzaki lights up at this, “Oh that’s wonderful! Here right now, I know a great dog groomer in Paris, we can get him down here by the nigh-“ Sayaka and Midori simultaneously respond with, “That won’t be necessary.” 

After asking around for a couple supplies, they manage to scrounge up a bucket and some dog soap, given to them by the resident dog person. Midori is invaluable to this operation as with her knowledge of the people in the residence, and combined with her imaginative charm, she is able to coerce them into handing over their possessions, why, Sayaka had to admit that she was a better salesman than herself. 

“I’ve got to hand it to you Midori, you’re really useful when you want to be.” Sayaka grins down at her, Midori blushes? Huh. Now she’s got Sayaka blushing. 

Tsubame’s parents called for her, and so yet again, the two are left to sit in comfortable silence filling up a plastic bucket. 

“You know, I really don’t like this dog.” Sayaka sighs to herself as she starts chasing her own tail. 

“You were the one who picked it up.” bucket hat responds, “Yeah… but I thought we’d find this guy by now.” Midori chuckles, “Well, we made our bed and now we’ve gotta lie in it.” Huh, that one caught her off guard, “That was a surprisingly mature thing you just said there.” 

It takes a lot more chasing than its worth, and while Midori is known for being fast- she’s lacking in stamina, so the thing was just a big waste of her time and energy. Eventually, they manage to get the thing in the bucket… and it causes a big splash, bathing the two. 

Of course, of course! 

The dog’s looking at them with its big, dumb eyes, and Kanamori just hates this thing now. “Screw you, dog.” She says as she begins to lather it with soap. Midori is off chasing a butterfly or something and so Sayaka’s the one doing most the work, as always. “You know, I always hated dogs,” she ranted to the poor pup as it continued to be lathered up, “Like, why the hell do people get these things? Cats are cleanlier, and they don’t lick your face every five seconds, and…” 

Sayaka’s about to go on a three-hour lecture about her hatred for these fluffy animals but then… huh, Midori’s hugging her? She’s too stunned to push her off and so she’s just sitting there, with the frog against her back, “Sorry, you just seemed like you needed one.” 

Kanamori just laughs to herself, “What?” Midori’s quiet, too quiet, “Hey, what’re you doing?” Sayaka can’t see it, but Midori’s blushing up a storm right now. 

Ah, she won’t hit her, honestly, she kinda likes the hug. Its comfy, huh, Sayaka’s never considered just how soft Midori is. The dog wags its wet tail, Sayaka’s face feels hot. 

BACK TO WASHING. 

“Er, thanks for the hug, I didn’t hate it.” 

Midori smiles a shaky smile.

“You’re awfully good at that, y’know?” Sayaka absent mindedly blurts, “The whole hug thing, though I suppose that comes natural to people like you.” 

The dog continues to vibe, doe.   
Midori fidgets with her hands, “Huh? What do you mean?”

Sayaka continues, she’s overthinking it, and now that blush gets stronger, “Well, you’re the kind that’s used to giving out hugs.” 

Midori shakes her head, “Nah, the only person’s I’ve ever really hugged besides my parents… is well, you.” 

Oh, 

OH 

Didn’t expect that one, and now she’s sitting just trying to come up with a response to it, her face is heated. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re one of the few people who I’ll let hug me.” 

They sit there is silence, the only sounds which emit are the splashing of that dog, echoing into a blue sky. 

“Hey… could I do it again?”

Kanamori gives it a second, before shrugging, “Sure.” 

Midori crawls, step by step, slowly- surely, closer, closer. 

Her shaky arms raise, and wrap around the taller girl’s body, her head rests upon her chest. 

Kanamori raises her arms in turn, wraps them around her. 

This is the safest she’s felt. 

The dog watches this from her seat in the bucket, wagging its tail in delight. She will find her owners in the morning.   
\------------------------------------ -------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Criticisms? Please send them in the comments below.


	3. Kanamori likes to build things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An uncompleted fic about Sayaka building Ikea furniture, discontinued because I had no idea what to do with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoy this really short one!

Building Ikea furniture is an arduous but rewarding process your first go. The instruction manuals are long and bizarre - like a maze to explore – and for some godforsaken reason, the screws are just thrown into a bag without care for their different types, agh, it’s so infuriating! 

So, what you want to do before even thinking about looking at the manual is arranging the screws by size and type, lay all the bits and bobbles flat on the floor in a row- rows are important- and then you can go back to the text. Transcribe that bloody manual like it’s some ancient runic text and there you are, you’re ready to go champ!

She’s got her glasses on for this one. It’s a desk, nothing too special today- but the prospect of the craft is enough to get her all fired up.

When she isn’t raking in the big bucks (trademarked, of course it would be), Sayaka likes to spend her time building things, all kinds of things: legos, furniture, she even built a mecha this one time (though she couldn’t tell you where it was from, as the mecha genre is too big and intimidating… also she’d rather just build the bloody thing.) Anyways, the Ikea furniture. Sayaka worked in diligent silence; put this piece and that piece together… screw here, screw there… heh. 

Kanamori chuckles at her own joke there; and then lightly bangs the top of her head with a Phillips screwdriver, back to work!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments, criticisms, please share them in the comments below.


	4. Storyboard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sayaka drops in to check up on a storyboard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, imaginary smoking done for a small gag, has nothing else to do with the story from then on. Also mild language.

There’s an explosion as TB-63, a self-replicating robot created through thousands of biotic nanomachines (which reproduce asexually), enters the scene. The endless wasteland of a world not quite like Earth is bathed in red by the raging fire which it forces its way through. 

Our hero, a girl with a machete, stands at attention, a stalwart expression chiseled beneath the gas mask she wears to breathe. 

TB-63 prepares another one of its missiles; infused with pure plasma, the weapon is able to burn hotter than lava, leaving the soil it touches infertile and dead- which doesn’t mean much considering that this world itself is dead, a graveyard for shattered Titan-Class Frigates left from a bygone era when space travel was considered feasible. 

The girl raises her sword to the sky, as though holding whatever God this world once worshipped hostage and closes her eyes.

And- and, and then she 

She-  
She-

She-

Huh. 

Midori has one foot on her chair, the other on her desk, her hand is wrapped around a ruler which is pointed skyward, very much in the same manner as the girl with the machete, (who she has affectionately named Adda-sama). And her head’s gone blank. She supposes that comes with the lack of sleep, after all, the life of an animator is one of all-nighters and energy drinks… so much energy drinks (like Christ, that’s a lot of energy drinks) . Midori sighs, “This life is unsustainable.” That statement only makes her smile. 

Her room is a square den of creativity, four walls with one decorated by hundreds- possibly thousands of concepts hung to the wall like a growing mold.

Asakusa looks at them, she looks at fourteen years’ worth of work and sighs to herself. 

The world is alive with sultry jazz tones, bogged down by the imagined smoke escaping from imagined cigars. Mobsters hang in the deep, dank alleyways, sharpening swords, eyes hidden beneath sunglasses. 

The buildings have taken a jagged shape to them, long and spindly as though drawn by scratchy brush strokes.

There were days when Kanamori liked to imagine the chatter like ripples on water, each step sending waves of speech. 

Boom 

“Did you hear?! That Kanamori got into another fight!” 

Boom 

“I heard that he was left bloody!” 

Boom 

“Well, I heard that she stabbed him!” 

In truth, she had fought some kid between the second and third period; but he had it coming, everything about him had it coming. Before Doumeki, Sayaka had contacted some guy from the music club- he claimed to be some hot-shot-up-and-coming mixer, destined for greatness and all that. Sayaka almost believed him, that part made her chuckle dryly as she lay her bottled milk on her bruised knuckles. 

Well, anyways, that guy got offended when she listened to one of his tracks and harkened it something akin to toilet water- which, in hindsight, was a dick move- and when he was starting to get violent, Sayaka just… punched the guy. 

She regretted two things as she walked: getting dirt on her hands and wasting her time, the guy would’ve thrown a punch- she’d seen that look before. 

Sayaka tugged at the non-existent-yakuza-looking suit she had seen in that one crime movie, took a long drag of a non-existent cigar, and loaded her non-existent gun. “An unfortunate outcome.” Sayaka mumbled to herself as she tied her hair into a bun, using her prescription glasses as a hair pin… and then immediately undid it when she realized that her already bad eyesight would only worsen at night. 

Home would come soon, and even if home was microwaved noodles and a T.V. that kept breaking, she couldn’t wait. 

But first, she had some unattended business to tend to. 

PSHEWW 

BOOM BOOM BOOOM

Piping hot plasma soars into the night sky, green against the endless black, Ada-sama’s back contorts as she’s pulled towards a canyon at breakneck speed by her grappling hook (which would’ve at the very least dislocated her shoulder, but rule of cool and all that). 

She soars from canyon to canyon, each one exploding into a pile of corrosive rubble at each shot of the robot’s gun. 

If the plasma doesn’t melt her into the nothingness, the radiation emitting from TB-63’s thermo-nuclear engines will, thankfully, radiation poisoning has an easy remedy nowadays; but help’s not coming, and the small resistance group she’s teamed up with is running out of time. 

PCHEWWW 

With a click of a button on her sword’s hilt, the blade is heated past its melting point, steam emits as its hue is set red. 

She’s running out of time, BRAUGHHHHHH, TB-63 bellows its siren’s call as she prepares to charge into the belly of the beast. 

This will be her final battle. 

The camera zooms up to her eyes, closed, as though she’s soaking up each second of life given to her; as though she’s throwing away all the regret she’s brought with her up until this point; as though she’s come to terms with her own mortality. 

And then her eyes open; and as Ada-Sama’s grappling hook sends her barreling towards the gigantic robot off in the distance, as her sword sends streaks of red behind her, as she stares at the shining abyss above her- the graveyard for fallen ships suspended in orbit- her eyes sparkle. 

Today will be her final  
B  
A t Tle 

Sniff, sniff. 

Midori’s paper is darkened by tears, huh, the shorter girl lifts her trembling fingers to her cheek, yep, these are her tears. 

The two (that being Mizusaki and Midori) had discussed the fate of their character with both coming to terms that their story needed a sad ending, but well… it was easier in concept!

Midori broke down then, her sudden emotional mood brought by said countless sleepless nights. Quiet sobs erupt into her pillow as she crawls into bed, throwing the blanket over her tired form. Maybe a couple of hours of sleep would do her- 

“Midori-san,” Long legs slide inside from an open window, a towering figure stands over her bed sending Midori’s mind racing beneath her blanket. 

They came

They finally came 

SHE KNOWS TOO MUCH, ALIENS FROM ANOTHER DIMENSION HAVE CO-

“It’s me, not the aliens I’m sure you’re thinking about.” 

“Sayaka-sama!” She quickly wipes her tears with her army pajama sleeves, “Wait… how do I know you’re the real Saya-“

“You owe me six milks from the weeks I’ve had to carry your unconscious body out of the club.” 

“Oh, yeah you’re the real one.” 

She rips the comforter off her, blinded by the light emitting from the lamp on her paper-filled desk. 

“I came to check up on the storyboards you two came up with, sorry for not coming earli-“ Kanamori stops and squints her eyes at her coworker. 

“You’re crying.” 

Asakusa tries to clear her nose, “Hey! Use a paper towel- agh, one sec.” Kanamori’s scowls deeper, the pain erupting from her knuckles only worsening her mood. 

This isn’t the first time she’s been to the Asakusa residence, and it’s certainly not gonna be the last time. The house was deathly still at late-o-clock, cold air hung, sending shivers up the scowling girl. The living room- like the young animator’s- was messy, papers lay strewn about with notes and plot hooks. Midori’s mother was a writer, which is where Kanamori supposes Asakusa gets her imagination from. 

The tissues are in the bathroom, top right shelf. 

Asakusa’s room is bathed in light, and stifled sniffles emerge from within. 

“What a crybaby.” Kanamori mumbles to herself. 

Asakusa smiles as she’s handed the box, the taller girl’s eyes narrow at the sight of the gremlin’s blowing, “Jeez, how much do you have in there?” Midori giggles lightly (its music to Sayaka’s ears, but she’d never admit it.) 

A sigh, and then, “As the producer, I need to keep tabs on my workers- in other words, what’s got you like this?” 

She hesitates, “T-the storyboards.” 

“…The boards?” 

“The boards.” 

Kanamori sighs, deep and low, its far to late to get riled up about stuff like that, “I have a problem with people who cry over the littlest things.” Which was a half-truth, as crying was productive, if not a little awkward when in a group. 

“Your knuckles!” Asakusa announces a little too loudly, causing the other girl to jump. 

A light bonk on Asakusa’s head sends Sayaka reeling, “Look, your hands! Here, let me see!” 

Oh wow, that is- wow- 

In all the time spent fussing over Midori, she had failed to notice her own wounds- ugly red blotches plagued her knuckles, each caress of Midori’s callused hands sent prickles up her arms. Its funny, what adrenaline does to you. 

Kanamori sighs.

Midori gasps, “What happened?” 

“Disagreement with a client, why is this so important to you?” 

She looks up, those familiar embers raging in her eyes, she’s quiet, then, “You’re my comrade, Kanamori-kun, I’d go to the ends of the world for you.”

Kanamori’s face feels hot, this is… highly unprofessional (but not entirely unwelcome). She says nothing. 

Seems as though Asakusa realizes what she’s said, because then she’s pulling away, stuffing her face into her shirt and strutting off to the kitchen- a surprisingly organized mess of pots and pans which dangle from the ceiling, and a refrigerator filled with drawings Midori would rather burn than leave for the world to see (the world being her family and Kanamori)- in search of what Sayaka presumes to be ice. 

Relief for the endless aching is found in a wet and dingy cloth wrapped around ice (ding ding ding) an hour is taken in silence with the only respite (if you could call it that) being light chuckles shared Sayaka and Asakusa (this whole situation is weird.) 

The air is strangely heavy, the cool night (morning?) air wafting through the open window provides no comfort; this isn’t the first time they’ve bleached out, so why does everything suddenly feel foreboding? 

They also talk to each other, nothing too grandiose, it almost painfully professional “How’s the boards?” “Sad.” 

By the time its over, her hands are wrapped in bandages, a surprising level of care is placed into the bow (which in and of itself is unsurprising, as Asakusa is one to get lost in the finer details of the picture.) Kanamori feels Midori’s eyes on her. 

This mood is beginning to get tiresome. 

“Spit it out.” 

“Huh?” 

“There’s something on your mind, and it’s starting to annoy me.” 

Her business partner goes a bright red, Kanamori knows her answer before it even leaves her lips. “I-I don’t know what you’re tal-talking about!” Asakusa moves like a tornado, hands left, right, up, down- can she just get to the point?! 

Kanamori yells, and when she yells, the room is filled with dust, stretching far into the endless horizon. 

The 

Walls 

Fall. 

They stand in a graveyard of fallen titans, feet planted into dead soil, the sun rises behind shattered sand dunes. 

Kanamori takes a deep breath, composes herself, and then she sees it- and by it, she means her. 

Asakusa cowers behind a small metal chunk of a ship’s hull, her eyes are wild, fixated on anything but her comrade. 

The distant sounds of explosions boom throughout this lonely place, painted in shades of purples, oranges and deep grays. Sand rises and canyons fall in the far-off distance, there’s minutes before Adda-sama makes the ultimate sacrifice, brings peace to a desolate world. 

“What is it?” Kanamori asks again, softer this time. 

“You.” 

The wind howls, they stand there, Kanamori gets the idea.

Oh. 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Come out.” 

The screech of metal rings echoes as she pushes the debris out of the way, (which wouldn’t make sense because-) Asakusa legs shake as they make their way closer, closer, she looks up at the towering sky scraper in front of her, and it does something peculiar.

She puts her hands in her pockets, her expression the epitome of apathy, betrayed by her cheeks which could probably melt a knife. 

“Do it.”

“Do what?” 

“I’m assuming you’d like to kiss me, here’re my terms, I expect a milk bottle everyday after school, and extra effort is needed to be taken on celebrations, in turn I’ll-“ 

Kanamori chortles, “Wait- what’re you doing?” 

Asakusa stands on an empty supply crate she found lying about, inscribed upon is the logo for some company or another, “Y-you’re very tall.” She stammers out, hiding her face in her bucket hat. 

The chortle turns into a full-on laugh, Asakua looks up from her hat and joins her. 

And then her callused hands caress Kanamori’s cheek, and she pulls herself closer.

The kiss is simple, a light peck on the lips that barely registers to the businesswoman; their faces are-

BOOOM 

Lit in shades of green by the explosion caused by TB-63’s generators overheating, and though they should be mourning the loss of their creation, the only thing that matters are their faces. 

Midori’s, round, eyes determined, mouth slightly agape. 

Kanamori’s, lanky, painted with fields of freckles, eyes sharp, cheeks bright.

In this moment they both know that the storyboards need to be revised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started this chapter before episode 5. Lost the plot. Going through a writing slump, I'll be sure to fix the spelling mistakes tomorrow.
> 
> You all have a good night/day :>

**Author's Note:**

> Comments, criticisms? Please leave them down below.


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